


The Buffer

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Castiel and Dean Winchester Fight, Castiel in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Dean Winchester is Protective of Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester is Sam Winchester's Parent, Emotional Health Issues, Emotionally Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), Emotionally Hurt Sam Winchester, Gen, Guilty Dean Winchester, Happy Ending, Mental Health Issues, Worried Dean Winchester, dog!Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 07:22:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17893997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Sam develops a coping mechanism when things get too much, mentally or emotionally.As a dog, things are often so much simpler, but the opposite becomes true for Dean and Cas who cannot seem to compromise on how to take care of Sam like that.All Sam really wants is his family together and safe, but for that they need to bring Cas home first.





	The Buffer

**Author's Note:**

> Dean really doesn’t mean to be so horrid to Cas here, but his fears speak for him and he hurts their angel because sometimes Dean is all about the ends justifying the means, especially if it’s about keeping his loved ones safe (even from themselves).

Sometimes, Sam gets warning. 

He can feel it coming on, kind of like being in a room full of people but standing alone at the back, no one seeing you, no one even knowing that you’re there.

It’s that sense of isolation, of distance, that tells him he maybe has a few hours or a day at best, and typically that lets him get to Dean or Cas, since he’s never without or at least near one of them.

But on the odd occasion, there’s no warning at all. Just a sudden feeling like falling, and then he’s half or less the size he was, and everything is _different_.

Like now. 

The microwave beeps above him, loud, and demanding, and Sam snarls at it in frustration, because he hates the sound when he’s like this.

Also because he’s hungry, and now he can’t reach the food, and he can’t even eat that while he’s a _dog_ anyway.

He looks around, sees the kitchen, gets used to how different it looks (and smells and sounds, it’s like a whole other place now) and gives a distressed yelp.

At least, he supposes, he’s home, and he’s not alone.

 _Cas. Cas, please_!

At least they know that Cas can still _hear_ him like this.

A moment later, the angel’s standing in the doorway, and he drops into a crouch when he spots Sam.

“It’s alright,” he says, and he holds out his arms.

Sam doesn’t hesitate. He barrels into the angel, whining and trying to lick his face, because maybe he’s still _him_ but he’s also a dog, so what.

Cas holds him close, strokes the back of his neck just how Sam likes, and then scoops him into his arms.

“Let’s go find Dean.”

++

They don’t know for sure what set it off, and Sam isn’t really certain that he cares. There’s no denying that it’s changed their lives, for certain; hunting is trickier, now, because Sam can sometimes change with no warning, especially if something’s slipped past his defences and pushed him under without him realising it.

That can happen; there’s been times that Sam hasn’t been as okay as he thinks, and this is the result.

But sometimes having an Irish Wolfhound loping along beside them as they track witches or chase down vampires or even tackle belligerent witnesses can really come in handy.

They cope, anyway.

How just depends on where they are, and how long it’ll be before Sam feels able to change back.

++

“At least the hair’s the same,” Dean gripes, as he carefully runs a brush through Sam’s coat.

Sam play-nips at him, and Dean tugs his tail in retaliation.

When Dean’s done, Sam shakes himself out, just to hear Dean bitch about a wasted fifteen minutes, and then trots off to find their angel.

Cas has been repairing the damage to the armoury after their trial of a new gun Ketch had brought them (as a peace offering, so he said, though Sam has his doubts) didn’t go quite as expected.

He knows Sam’s coming, though, probably hears his paws clacking down the hall, and holds out a hand to pull up a gentle barrier of Grace in the doorway.

Through dog eyes, Sam can actually see it; it’s like a glowing blue cloud, all wispy and soft around the edges, and he stops just shy of it.

He’s tempted to lick it, because it’s like something fizzling on his tongue, but the last time he did that his fur stood up for days, and Dean insisted on taking an unreasonable amount of pictures, as far as Sam’s concerned.

Cas comes over, and steps out into the hall; the cloud closes over again behind him.

He drops down to Sam’s level and strokes his forehead.

“Are you alright?”

Sam nods, but, honestly…. _Bored_.

Cas looks thoughtful. “I can keep reading that book to you, if you like. Or we can try to sneak past Dean and go to the fields out back of the bunker.”

Sam looks guiltily back the way he’s come. Dean…. Dean’s convinced any time Sam’s like this, and outside, is an unacceptable risk. 

When Sam changes unexpectedly on a hunt, or on those rare occasions they knew it was coming but there wasn’t time to get home, or sometimes even to a motel, there wasn’t anything to be done.

It takes Sam protesting he can be useful, he can keep himself safe, but it’s always a battle.

But when they _are_ home, and Sam shifts, Dean likes them to stay that way.

Cas, though…. Cas seems to get it. 

And Cas will keep him safe.

++

Angels, Sam’s learned, can be very sneaky.

Even without his wings, Cas is able to get them quietly outside, and since Dean figures Cas is still busy fixing up their armoury, and that Sam is with him (he’s _half_ right) they probably have some time.

They found the fields out back of the bunker when they had a little time to explore, a few weeks after arriving, when they knew this was likely as close to a permanent home as they were likely to get.

He remembers how instantly Dean took to the place, and Sam’s glad they’ve got to stay here as long as they have, and hopes they never have to leave it.

Now, he hunts through the mid length grass, trying to find the source of that thick, delicious smell that has his mouth watering.

He’s no idea what it is, though it seems to be moving, and his human mind is recoiling a little at the thought of his dog self pouncing on something alive and scurrying through the grass.

At any rate, his attention is diverted when he hears Cas calling his name, and looks up to see the angel is holding a ball.

 _His_ ball. The one Cas got for him, for their mission impossible style forays into the outdoors, because he knew Sam would want something to amuse himself with.

Sam doesn’t hesitate. He drops his ass to the ground, eyes keen on the prize, and yaps at Cas when the angel tries to fake him out by mimicking an overarm toss without the ball leaving his hand.

 _Nice try_ , he thinks, and Cas laughs, open and happy, and God, Sam doesn’t hear that enough.

Then the ball goes sailing, not as far as Cas _could_ throw it (Sam would still be out chasing it at midnight if that were the case) but enough to give him a decent run.

They do this for a while, until Sam’s panting and pleasantly tired, and he brings it back and drops it at Cas’s feet, no more holding on and then cheekily pulling away when Cas tries to take it back.

“Alright, Sam,” the angel says, and then winces.

Sam cocks his head, worried, but Cas just reaches down to scratch behind his ears.

“Time to face the music,” he says. “Dean’s noticed we’re gone.”

++

Sam has a bed. It’s big, and has a thick fleece blanket inside when he needs just a little more comfort, but it’s soft with padded sides, and he’s strong enough to drag it where he wants to be: his room, Dean’s, Cas’s, the library, the war room.

Right now, that’s where he is, fitting, since Dean and Cas are here too, and they are getting into it.

Sam’s in the bed, cover tucked in around him by Dean, as if his brother thinks he’s underwent some life shattering trauma just by Cas taking him outside.

Though, he considers it’s also a possibility that Dean just wants him to stay in that bed, and the blanket is intended as both net and comfort.

Sam has no intention of crawling out from under; he doesn’t want to hear them fighting, but he whines in protest when Dean starts hitting below the belt.

“Sometimes I think I’m the only one around here who _does_ think,” Dean snaps.

“You don’t _think_ I’d keep Sam safe?” Cas asks, and there’s a dangerous tone to his voice, but Sam can hear the hurt underlying it.

The thing is, and Sam knows Cas gets it, Dean has been responsible for Sam for as long as he, Sam, can remember. Washing and dressing him. Feeding him. Putting him to bed, and looking after him when he was sick, and helping with his homework, and teaching him how to cross roads, and use the cooker, and what monsters were active when, and not to talk to strangers, because some humans were still monsters even if they also, technically, weren’t.

And standing up for him with John, his body armour there even though Sam is only realising these past few years that he may never know all of that.

Even now, Dean is still that person, and Cas knows all of this, but he’s willing to share the responsibility because he loves them. He has been sharing the responsibility, for years now, taking care of Sam and taking care of Dean, as they’ve tried to take care of him.

“Check your track record,” Dean says, and oh, fuck, Sam knows he doesn’t mean that, but Dean’s temper sometimes takes control of his mouth, and he’s never been one to raise the bar in an argument, especially when he’s scared and thinks he’s going to lose (the fight, or something way more important). “Looking after my family is my job.”

Cas stiffens; there’s one heartbreaking moment where Sam can see just how hard that hit, but then that stoic angel soldier mask is back in place, and Cas nods, once, and then he’s gone.

Dean looks down at Sam, his face stubborn and guilty and still angry (probably at himself more than them); he reaches down and gently strokes Sam’s neck.

“You okay there?”

Sam drops his head onto his paws and whines. 

Dean half shrugs, gets up, and storms away.

It’s only later, when Sam wakes up from a sadness-induced nap, that he sniffs the air and realises Cas is actually _gone_.

++

On foot, luckily enough. Cas’s truck was totalled two months before when something Michael created, a monster in every sense of the word, rammed his truck off the road, completely wrecking it (and almost the angel inside; it took Cas, Dean, Sam and the help of some heavy duty cutting equipment to get him out).

He hasn’t gotten around to obtaining another vehicle yet, mainly because Dean shoots down every car Cas sees as ‘too old’ or ‘looks shoddy’ or ‘that used to be _two_ cars’.

Sam knows it’s just that Dean wants Cas close, which he will be if he’s in the car with them all the time, and he could bite his brother on the ass sometimes.

Wants Cas there. Manages to chase him away with a stick.

Sam’s starting to wonder why he shifts, any more. It’s not the buffer it used to be.

Since Cas is car-less, and given Dean’s outburst wouldn’t dream of touching any of the vehicles in the garage (even before, Cas was hesitant to look at them, all classic, all polished to mirror-levels, and all off limits even though Dean had never actually said so), it should make him easier to find.

Sam sits up front, nose out of the window, trying to catch a sniff of Cas’s scent.

Dean’s been driving in slow circles of town, trying to turn when Sam yaps at him, and what a sight they must make, a guy and a dog in a muscle car, prowling the streets of a small town.

Somebody’s going to call the cops.

He can feel Dean getting more frustrated and angrier. He just hopes when they find Cas that Dean remembers they want Cas to come home, not take off again.

If Cas even thinks of the bunker as his home, after that, but Sam’s sure he will. He knows Dean can use his tongue like a weapon, hell, they’ve all been on the receiving end of that.

And yet Cas still left. Because what Dean said today…. Man, that was beyond it.

Not only casting up Cas’s mistakes, but making like they weren’t all, each and every one, already forgiven, and then implying Cas wasn’t family.

Sam has this sudden sickening fear that maybe they won’t find Cas. Or if they do, maybe he’s just had enough of being hurt by them and won’t come...home. 

But then he smells him, and squints into the darkness, and yaps excitedly, prompting Dean to clip the kerb as he turns the car fast.

Cas is sitting at the bus stop. Just him, alone, waiting on the next transport heading south.

He looks wrecked, and alone, and Sam whines at the sight of him.

He doesn’t wait for Dean to let him out, just clambers out of the window and scampers over to where Cas sits.

Cas seems surprised to see him, and Sam wants to bite _him_ on the ass for that, but settles for resting his head in Cas’s lap and giving him _genuine_ puppy eyes until Cas wilts and starts to stroke his snout.

Dean follows, and hovers, like he’s really got no part in this.

Cas looks up at him, and Sam lifts his head enough to glare at his brother.

“Get your ass in the car,” Dean says.

Sam would roll his eyes if he could, but that’s _I’m sorry, I need you, we need you, we love you, you’re family, I didn’t mean it, come home_ all in one and as close as Sam figures Dean can get to actually saying all of that.

Just to make sure Cas knows, though, Sam snags his shirt cuff between his teeth, and tugs.

It’s not particularly safe, but Sam rides in Cas’s lap all the way home, just to make sure Cas doesn’t even think of trying to get Dean to pull over and let him out of the car before then.

And yes, Irish Wolfhounds are big, but Cas is an angel, and he’s definitely strong enough to hold Sam securely until they get home.

++

He spends the night in Cas’s room, nudging at the angel until he gets into bed, and gets under the covers, ignoring the muttered protests that angels don’t sleep, because Cas has a laptop and Sam knows he binge watches shows to occupy the nighttime hours while the humans are asleep.

It’s different from before, so Sam has no concerns about it then, jumping up on on the bed and stretching out so his body runs the length of Cas legs and he can rest his head on the angel’s feet.

He doesn’t think Cas will try to leave during the night, or at all (he and Dean seem to have reconciled, though Sam would prefer they do it with words instead of that silence exchange of glances and Dean lingering in the angel’s presence, barely a hair’s breadth between them at some points) but a part of both dog-him and human-him can’t quite get the fear out of his head.

Since he can’t express it properly in fur and on four paws, he does it like this, by making it clear he expects Cas to still be there in the morning, to not leave them, to know they want him there and Cas is theirs.

But, just in case, and because Dean can’t ever bring himself to say it…

 _We love you, Cas_.

Cas spends the night with his hand resting on Sam’s back, fingers lightly scritching through his fur.

++

It is a little awkward when he wakes up in the morning as a human, but at least Cas tossed a blanket over him during the night to spare his blushes.


End file.
